


Training

by TheMulletWhisperer



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Group Sex, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Other things like that too, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Slavery, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:08:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8027320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMulletWhisperer/pseuds/TheMulletWhisperer
Summary: Party favors have always been Rulindil's specialty, but bringing Galina along for this meeting was his most generous yet.





	Training

**Author's Note:**

> So I literally just came up with this idea tonight and figured I should write it because glurble flurble wobbly bits. This is basically just smut. All smut all the time. Smut smut smut.

Rulindil passed through the lobby without so much as a word, the chain he held wrapped around his hand that connected to Galina’s collar rattling and drawing undue attention to the pair. An Altmer leading a half-naked Nord into a meeting between some of the highest of the Thalmor echelon. Not exactly a regular sight, but nobody dared question Rulindil for fear of what he may do to them if provoked.

Pausing in the chamber just before the meeting, the Altmer turned to Galina, rubbing his chain and looking the servile Nord over. “Hmph. Yes, I suppose this will do. Remember, pet, this is your chance to prove that you’re actually worth being my favorite. Impress the people sitting in the table behind this door and you’ll be afforded the privilege. Just remember, you’re still worth nothing either way. Now, show me what you’ve learned.”

Galina looked up with slightly nervous eyes, glancing behind her at the Justiciars standing guard. “Sir, are you...sure, there’s--” Her question was cut short by a slap across her cheek. “Quiet! That is the last time I’ll tolerate disobedience. On your knees, show me what you’ve learned, human.”

With a heavy gulp and another glance over her shoulder, the Nord sunk down onto her knees, shifting slightly and reaching up with her shackled hands to clumsily undo the Emissary's trousers, eventually managing to pull off the fine belt and fish his member out. However, she paused as a harsh sigh came from above her, though she didn’t quite dare look up at him. “You’re already earning low marks, slave. You’ll need to be faster next time or you’re due for punishment.”

Nodding quickly, she dropped her hands back to her lap and bent down, using exclusively her mouth to guide his limp cock inside. Luckily, it seemed that compensated, as he laid a large hand on the back of her head as she worked her mouth back and forth along his shaft. Although her face burned at the muttering she heard behind her, she tried to focus on how hard he was growing between her lips, his hand only gripping her head tighter. “Yes, good, good. Perhaps you are not a lost cause after all. You’ll need to do more to truly impress, though.”

Taking the cue, Galina paused only a moment to take a deep breath through her nose before pushing herself hard and taking him down her throat. Though the contents of her stomach threatened to resurface, and she gagged hard around him, she focused her willpower on finishing him off as quickly as possible. Remaining where she was for as long as she could before she could no longer hold her breath--and then some, she pulled back and blinked the residual tears away from her eyes, stroking him with her lips only a few more times before he spilled over onto her tongue. Though every instinct she had told her to spit it out, she squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to swallow it, finally pulling her mouth off and panting hard. 

As he reached down to clean her face off with a rag, he chuckled quietly, going quickly limp again. “Very good, human. Put it away while I make you presentable again for the dignitaries, yes?” Doing as she was told, she once again raised her closely-shackled hands, tucking him back in his trousers and re-buckling the belt, remaining on her knees until he stowed the rag and tugged on her chain--his nonverbal command.

Once she was back on her bare feet, he pushed the door open and led her into the room just behind him, allowing her to catch a brief glimpse of the extravagant decor. All the money in Skyrim couldn’t buy furnishings so lavish and elegant, something Galina wished desperately she had a chance to experience in full--a wish that she quickly snuffed out with a reminder that she was nothing more than a slave, and would always be such. With that in mind, she turned her gaze to those she’d be shared among. Three Altmer and a Nord sat around a half-circle table, all embroiled in their own affairs. That is, until Rulindil spoke up, “Gentlemen, I take it everything is going well?”

All at once, every head in the room raised to look at Rulindil both hopefully and respectfully. Respect, from his position, and hope, from the fact that he always brought one of his slave girls with him. Usually a lower-tier, not wishing to spoil them more than he had to, though Galina was a special treat, one of his favorites. “Ah, Emissary. I see you brought us another party favor.” The first to speak up was the bald mer on the far right side of the table, who she recognized as Ondolemar, a Commander within the Thalmor. Immediately to his left sat Gissur, who was lucky enough to be there in the first place due to his ineptitude as an informant, and finally, Estormo and Ancano, closest of friends with a reputation for ruthless cunning to match Rulindil’s. 

“Yes, a special treat for all of you, come of the positive results of the last month. Galina here is one of my favorites, usually I keep her for myself, but I do believe you have all earned her. Just remember, there is business to deal with, so try to keep the disruption to a minimum as the rest of us talk, yes?” Rulindil smirked to the room and unclasped the chain from Galina’s collar, evidently trusting her training enough to allow her some modicum of freedom. 

Doing as she’d learned, she simply approached the center of the room, head bowed with hands clasped in front of her--as if she was capable of doing much else with them. Although Rulindil began to address the room, she reserved herself to keeping her ears closed to him, not wishing to know anything should a time come that she was captured. 

Thankfully, her efforts were cut short as a quiet clearing of a throat came from the right side of the table, prompting her to look up at the Altmer who’d made the sound. Ondolemar motioned to her, keeping quite the empty expression as he did so. Without wishing to disrupt, she padded over to the Commander quietly, managing to keep the rattling of her shackles to an absolute minimum as she approached. 

Sliding between the edge of the table and the Altmer, she once again assumed her position with a bowed head and clasped hands, only catching sight of Ondolemar’s legs, which rather promptly stood. Callused hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, damn near slamming her forward onto the table. After a pause in Rulindil’s speech which she assumed carried a warning glare with it, the Commander became a bit more gentle in what he was doing.

Unclasping the golden ring that held her loincloth in place, he bared her entirely save for the small piercings and decorations that Rulindil had permitted her to wear for the occasion. However, only as the cool air rushed over her did she realize just how wet she was, despite herself, and her arousal only grew as she felt Ondolemar rubbing the head of his cock against her entrance, prompting a soft sight to fall from her lips. 

Seemingly, the sound put the Altmer behind her over the edge as he grabbed her hips, lined himself up and pushed in with a muffled groan. “Oh...fuck, she’s so tight.” Galina was likely the only one who could hear him, though only barely over the buzz of her own arousal and the rush of staticky heat as he entered her. 

Turning her head down to face the table, she bit down on the side of her hand as he began to slide in and out smoothly, fighting every single urge she had not to moan loudly. As he picked up the pace, the sound of flesh slapping on flesh filled the chamber and drew quiet whimpers with each pleasant sting of his hips colliding with her pert rear. From behind her, she could hear muttered swears and minced oaths from under the Commander’s breath as he rutted into her, his fingers tightening around her slender waist hard enough to leave bruises in the morning and yet he quickened even further, moving his hands down to her ass to knead her soft cheeks, amplifying her wanton desire to moan as she began nearing the edge.

In some cruel twist of fate, however, he pulled out right as she felt herself tipping, finally letting out a deep groan and spilling all over her buttocks and lower back, subsequently falling back into the chair, tucking himself back into his pants, and sighing deeply, almost as if he were dreading returning to the meeting. 

Galina, on the other hand, remained bent over the table for the moment, crying silent tears of frustration and trying not to sob openly at the outright painful denial. Her pity was, however, short-lived as a pair of slightly smaller, but still quite large hands grabbed her slender form and carried her back to his chair. As he spun her around, she was faced with Gissur, the only other Nord in the room, who’d positioned her on top of him--something she very  _ very _ rarely got to see, with her legs spread over his hips and on either side of the chair, with his already-erect member pressed against her thigh. The demand was most certainly nonverbal. 

Reaching down between her legs, she guided his cock to her entrance and pressed his head inside of her, breath hitching as she raised her hands and rested them on his shoulder, her forehead soon following. One thing she’d learned was that they most certainly did not want to look her in the eyes as they took her--however, this one seemed to be different as he grabbed her head gently and rested her forehead against his, looking into her eyes with pure lust as she sunk down and hilted on him. Finding her hands in an uncomfortable position, she dropped them from his shoulder and pressed them flat against his chest, using it as leverage to begin riding him in earnest.

Something about being able to set her own pace was even more arousing and enticing than being taken roughly, it was an entirely alien feeling but one she found she very thoroughly enjoyed. Using her thighs to lift up and come back down on his large, throbbing cock, she picked up her pace, moving quite quickly. 

Eventually, the other Nord’s eyes shut and he leaned his head back in the chair, both his hands coming to rest on her hips as she bounced up and down on him. Without much of a place to put her head, she simply threw it back and kept riding him, her toes curling as once again she neared orgasm.

Seemingly, though, the gods outright hated her and Gissur scrambled to push her off of him, grabbing his cock, stroking it once, twice, three times before he finished with hot lines across her taut stomach. Now positively shaking from her repeated denial, she could only pray that Estormo or Ancano could grant it to her, though as she shakily stood and stumbled over to them, it seemed they had something a bit different in mind.

Ancano grabbed her by the ribs and hoisted her up onto the table while Estormo took her shoulders and lay her on her back, the both of them with large members standing proudly on either side of her. Even without any words, she knew what was about to happen.

The wizard’s fingers wrapped around her thighs and opened them up with no resistance from the Nord beneath him, while the Inquisitor before her face began rubbing the tip of his cock on her lips, prompting her to open them up. Taking it a step further, she flicked her tongue out and licked the slit, met with the surprising--yet pleasant taste of his precum. 

With no further ado, Ancano lined himself up and pushed into Galina while Estormo pressed himself into her mouth. Both began, without any preparation, to thrust hard into her cunt and down her throat, respectively. As the wizard rammed into her quim, her generous chest bounced up, only to be met with the force of Estormo’s thrusts to bounce them back down. The cycle continued until the Altmer using her throat pressed surprisingly soft hands to the large mounds and began kneading them roughly.

Without input from her mind, Galina wrapped her legs around Ancano’s waist, her heels hooking on the small of his back as he fucked her without remorse, her grip tightening with each and every thrust that brought her closer and closer to orgasm. 

As Estormo pinched her nipples between his fingers, it sent her flying over the edge of orgasm, her vision going completely white and a scream tearing itself from her throat, albeit considerably muffled by the considerably-sized cock down her throat. 

However, none of this quite registered in her mind as she continued to be fucked relentlessly. Only when the both of them stopped--near simultaneously--did she start paying attention again. Judging by the fresh, steamy-hot liquid on her breasts, face, and stomach, they’d both finished, leaving her a well-fucked, deeply-flushed mess who could barely make any sounds, let alone walk. Luckily for her, after a brief exchange drowned out by the ringing in her ears, the hands that could only be Rulindil’s picked her up off the table, moved her off to one of the sofas, laid her down and pulled a blanket up over her, patting the side of her head with an affection she wasn’t used to. For the first time since they’d entered the room, he spoke directly to her, “Good job, pet. Maybe you’re deserving after all.”


End file.
